


ATLA: The Fire Within Us

by Kirimizi



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Firebending, I cried and felt myself far too much making this, Midnight Firebending, Other, Prevailing, We are stonger when we ask for help, tea time, tw: PTSD, tw: anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:48:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23180464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kirimizi/pseuds/Kirimizi
Summary: Dedicated to those who want to let go, but cannot help being angry.
Kudos: 23





	ATLA: The Fire Within Us

A sweet, cloudy skyline projected itself over the great city. The weight of the clouds ready to collapse on the bustling population, many of the city's inhabitants avoided the streets for the anticipated rain later that evening. This left a void in the many stores that trailed the shopping district. While it left some taking cover for the impending weather, others didn't seem to mind as much.

A sense of obligation in particular forced some to continue their day until its bitter end. For Zuko, it was nothing less which brought him outside today. The force being the strongest in the universe.

"Can I get a refill, please?" The chubby old man sitting across from him snapped his fingers at the nearest waitress with a needy smile. 

The atmosphere in the tea shop felt heavy and strange. While the scent of fresh jasmine filled the air, not a second was as peaceful in Zuko's busy mind. Lately, more anger manifested itself inside of him. The dark red hues and decor along the walls brought out the same mood as him, while the tea cup he set down told a tale of tradition and nobility, intricately crafted with care and a gold trim. 

The frustrations were difficult to handle, going as far to affect his sleep. The bags beneath his eyes aged him far beyond his years. When he couldn't handle these pent feelings any longer, the last straw had been pulled when his bending sputtered out like a dying firework mid-practice. Unsure of what else to do or where to turn, a call had been made to someone he could trust.

"Where is that girl with my tea?" The old man muttered while he searched around the shop. Clearly impatient, he fixed himself back into his seat, arms crossed over his chest. His line of sight quickly met with Zuko's tired eyes.

The desperate plea for help seemed to mend together with a sense of sadness in his expression. Zuko quietly lifted his half empty teacup to his lips and took a sip. He watched as the tea kettle was promptly replaced with a fresh batch of his favorite tea. Iroh's eyes lit up seeing the warm, hearty steam leave from the stem. He sighed with relief while he helped himself. The partial condensation slowly built its way up the side of the kettle, pooling around itself and the bottom brim.

Zuko's eyes became so weary as he felt himself tense up at the sight of his uncle's gentle fire bending which kept his tea warm. A consistent movement of his fingers kept the heat in one place, a trick that was as timeless as him. He darted his eyes, trying to forget the scenes that played over and over in his head. The memories of lost people and forgotten places, and the tyranny of undesired thoughts. Every time he tried to force them away, they only grew stronger.

"Zuko, you look tired. Have you been sleeping?" Iroh asked, concern growing on his face. He shook his head in response.

“I’ve been...struggling lately.” Zuko felt the words trying to come out. His uncle nodded, urging him to speak. “I can’t sleep, let alone close my eyes, without seeing things from the past,” He ran his fingers through his roughened hair. ”I’m haunted by these never ending scenes. I see everything except what’s in front of me and it’s starting to weaken my ability to bend.” A part of his pride died in him while he admitted everything.

Iroh sighed deeply. These struggles were well known with him, the tales of loss and sorrow that loomed over Zuko followed him all the same. No matter how much time could pass, even he could not fight the ability to remember the things that haunted him. The violence of memories could incapacitate a person, like a virus trying to find a host body.

There was hope, though. And that in itself was enough to get Zuko to ask for help.

Iroh led Zuko out of the tea shop and down the busy street. After many turns and twists between the towering buildings around them, Iroh took him into an abandoned building.

As Iroh brought them to the rooftop, the deep night sky met them with open arms. While a few clouds passed by, the rest of the sky remained untouched. The few stars that speckled the dark canvas shone brightest. Among them, a thick crescent moon partly shone through a few passing clouds. The enveloping night surrounded them, the slight glow of light pollution seemingly distant.

Iroh stretched out before beginning the practice. Zuko could feel his face fluster at the sight of the fire. He ran his hand lightly along his scar and his heart raced. He yearned to be able to do even the most basic of movements with success again. In a wild attempt, he took a shoddy breath and placed himself in position. A wave of his hand and one misplaced step forward, he tripped over himself. Before he could get up, Iroh extended his arm out. He grasped his forearm, pulling Zuko up off the concrete.

"One step at a time. A troubled mind is sure to cause problems," Iroh led them to an area to sit down. "What is it that weighs on your mind?" 

Zuko was unsure how to phrase it. His mind raced to find an answer but the overwhelm made the breath seep out of his chest. Iroh softly patted his nephews shoulder, encouraging him to breathe. A few tears escaped his eyes and dripped down his cheeks. 

"I can't stop them. No matter how hard I try, I'm angry over things so long past." Iroh wiped the remaining tears off with his own sleeve. 

"The mind is a very powerful organ. But so is the heart." Iroh squeezed his hand and walked his nephew through basic breathing exercises. The deep breathing techniques meant life or death in the ability to conjure fire. 

Over the course of the night, Iroh went over basic movements. Zuko barely kept up due to his exhaustion, but he subtly started to pick up. He took one step forward followed by his fist. A swing of his right arm towards the left, he picked up his left foot with a swift kick. A mid air sweep shifted his weight back to the right, swinging around the thickly settled air.

Iroh kept repeating this move set in particular, knowing Zuko learned best by watching. Smooth as could be, he shifted himself to the right side of his body, beginning to draw air from deep in his chest. A soft swing breezed by, bringing about small embers that quickly ignited as he completed the full circle. The flame died down as Zuko struggled to gain his old spark.

"Do not let the spark go out. Let it move you." His uncle commented. Zuko nodded, repeating the movement from the beginning. A small spark here and there but nothing more appeared.

"Again." He began to move, but froze. His heart beat faster than ever and his breathing turned heavy. He inhaled from deep within his gut and held it before releasing. Zuko repeated this, and closed his eyes. He could feel something deep within him, a part that wanted to thrive and succeed once more. A small prayer to his ancestors left his lips before he made his next attempt.

Zuko felt the harmony of warmth working within him, pleasant and peaceful for the first time in months. He moved alongside the heat, sparking immediately at the instinctive kick. Iroh watched with pride. The bold, fierce flames were a sight to behold coming from each graceful move that seemed to flow from Zuko flawlessly. The embers died down slower than before, reacting to the pull of the bender.

Zuko opened his eyes to see his uncle proud as can be. The air filled with heat and hope once again. A soft smile curled up his face as he practiced the previous movement one more time with his eyes open. 

Iroh’s eyes widened in wonder at the grand sight. Zuko kicked, punched, and moved with the grace of a lotus floating down a river. The final wave of his hands brought about such a beautiful color of flames, Iroh almost swore he had seen colors his mind could not comprehend. Zuko finished the movement and smiled with a sense of honor he had not felt in so long. Something he thought he had lost. But he found his harmony once again.

"The flame will always live within you. Never forget that." Iroh grinned. The two continued to practice in synchronized steps, allowing their small flames and the moonlight to guide them. The soft glow of the city lights in front of them being insignificant against the power of their firebending.


End file.
